


Touch-Starved

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo has been untouched for so long...





	

Kylo waits just outside the bridge, rocking back and forth lightly on his heels. It’s almost time for their unofficial dinner date, even though it’s never been agreed formally. It just... happened, somehow.  

He’d thought Hux would hate him. Thought he would blame him for the destruction of the Starkiller, and rightly so. The detonators his father and the Wookie had planted had been instrumental in the destruction of the planet. The knowledge can _not_ have escaped his ears and eyes, but Hux – instead – had blamed himself. 

Which Kylo, weirdly, had not been okay with. Once he’d recovered his health enough to properly resume duties, he’d found the man pale and drawn. Found him lingering in front of viewscreens, looking for a view he’d never see again. Waves of self-loathing and distress, and Kylo _knew_ that.

(The sensible, quiet voice inside said he was looking to soothe his own grief from his patricide by offering comfort to Hux. The sensible, quiet voice was told by a louder, less sensible voice _to go poke a Rancor in the dick with a vibroblade_.) 

Kylo had suggested they eat together, and been met with distrust, at first. (He could not blame him.) But then there’d been a cautious agreement.

It hadn’t been easy to eat in front of someone else for the first time in years. Hux having seen him unmasked was one thing, but... being... Human? Oddly, the sharing of food was more intimate than he’d ever thought. Kylo had been self-conscious of every chewing noise, every flicker of food around his lips. Every rumble in his belly, and the speed with which he demolished his plates. 

Hux ate much slower, and much more deliberate, and much less in total. His hands sometimes shook, and Kylo would pick up the conversation all the harder. He still remembered the old training in being a good host, no matter what.

After the first time, it became a Thing. Kylo worked out when Hux’s shift had a break, and he lingered, and they went back to one or the other’s quarters and ate. And talked. Sometimes about work, sometimes not. Kylo can’t remember the last time he had an actual _conversation_ outside of Hux. Being lectured or trained, or drilling his own Knights didn’t count. Interrogations didn’t count. Death sentence proclamations didn’t count. 

Just this.

It is the end of a long shift, and Kylo understands Hux will be tired after they eat. He understands when they sit down that this is going to be over shortly, especially if the meal is a big one. They sit opposite one another, and talk. 

Hux has had a rotten day. Kylo empathises entirely, and listens, and even offers advice. 

“You know... you could actually be a decent officer, if you ever wanted to change careers,” Hux says, as lightly as he can.

“Ah, but you know full-well I wouldn’t cope with the structure.”

“True.” Hux fights a yawn. 

“You should have an early night.”

“I’m not tired, it was... just... I needed the air,” Hux lies.

Kylo hears – or wants to hear? – the quiet plea of _don’t go yet_. 

His heart skips, and he tells it to behave. He’s not even sure what _this_ is, just that he... really enjoys Hux’s company when they’re not fighting. He’s got a wicked sense of humour, a sharp mind, and he isn’t afraid of Kylo. He says what he thinks and feels, and the sincerity is refreshing. 

“I don’t have to run off...”

Hux smiles, slightly, and they turn their chairs a fraction away from the table, and talk.

***

By the time Hux’s eyes are fighting to stay open, it’s a lot later than Kylo planned on staying. He doesn’t want to break up the conversation, but he also knows Hux has to get up in a few hours. He feels hideously guilty, and he tidies up the plates as Hux goes to the ‘fresher.

He’s startled when Hux comes back to the doorway. His jacket is off, leaving him in just his pants and an undershirt. He’s smaller with his layers peeled back, and his hair is less than immaculate. His black-socked feet wriggle anxiously, and Kylo knows he’s being asked: _stay_. 

Hux would never strip this far if he didn’t trust him.

Kylo pushes the trolley with the plates out into the corridor, and then turns back into the room to check he’s still wanted. 

Hux retreats to his bedroom, and Kylo understands the open invitation to bolt. 

He does not.

He goes in.

***

Hux lies on the bed with his undershirt on and something that looks like it’s regulation, but for sleep? On his legs? Those surely could never be _purchased_. Who would buy them?

Anyway. Kylo removes his belt, and shawl. He lifts the tunic off, and the boots. He leaves his socks on, as Hux is over the covers and he doesn’t want to get cold feet. Kylo did not bring sleepwear, so he’s resigned to his own undershirt and his day pants. He glances over for permission (after stripping, not the wisest) and then lies beside him. 

“You have a nice bed,” Kylo says, his ass wriggling just slightly.

“It’s not regulation.”

“I could tell, somehow.”

“Oh?”

“It’s not creaking, or exploding with two of us on,” Kylo quips weakly, and sees the smile in response. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“It’s what you like about me. Right?”

“I suppose so.”

Hux’s fingers inch closer, and Kylo nearly laughs. They’re almost completely clothed, and they’re reaching to touch pinkie fingers like they’re innocent children, but... they kind of are. 

Other than the medics, Kylo’s not felt contact that wasn’t intended to hurt, or train him. Not in over a decade, and it had been hard to accept the gentle brushings of arm past flank with Hux. Fingers lingering when handing items back and forth. He’d been startled to begin with, and Hux has pulled back. In time, though, he’d realised...

A hand on the small of his back on the bridge, and Kylo had flushed almost to exploding his mask. A pat on the shoulder, and he’d burned with the memory for days. Now, in bed together, their fingers link as they talk. 

Hux continues to talk, and Kylo struggles to listen. He’s not sure what ‘they’ are, but now they’re able to nearly hold hands and lie in bed, and talk about _anything_. Hux gets very animated in discussing the idiocy of his colleagues, rolling to lie on his side. The hand on his goes, and Kylo mourns it.

At least until fingers brush hair back from his face, and he lets his eyes drift shut, arching into the gentle caress. 

His eyes flick open, and he sees Hux frozen. Fingers still in his hair, lips slightly parted.

Only a moment, and he keeps talking. Kylo saves the memories for later because Hux is playing with a curl of his locks. The sensation travels to his scalp, making it tingle. He can’t help but sigh in pleasure, and then the hand moves to touch his temple.

Despite himself, Kylo feels his eyes drift shut as his face chases the sun. Down across his cheek, to his lips, and Kylo wraps them around the finger to start suckling. He’s going beyond the point of no return, isn’t he? Or at least, they could stop... but this would be forever changed, then. Maybe they’re already there?

He’s only suckling on the tip of his finger, but already he’s enjoying it. The salty tang to his skin, the warmth of something in his mouth. Reassuring, and exciting. Kylo mourns it when it’s removed, but only until Hux pulls him in closer. 

Kylo thinks it will be a kiss, but then it’s breathing on his face. A thumb pulling his lip from his teeth. 

The soft contact – after years of none – is like being set on fire, and doused in bubbly wine. He doesn’t speak, even as their eyes meet. He’s not sure what the hell to do, but there’s a grip in his hair, and a brush of lips, and Kylo is left holding onto Hux’s wrist and shaking at the very lightest of kisses.

“Do you want me to--?”

“Don’t stop,” Kylo begs. “Don’t stop.” 

But he’s aflame. It’s – all of him. _All of him_. Everywhere is feverish with electricity, and the hand on the back of his neck is the heaviest, most welcome choke-collar ever. Kylo judders in bliss, and he’s clasping the other hand to his face. He just. He’s drowning. Drowning, and on fire, both at the same time. He’s pretty sure he’s going insane, because he’s barely being touched and _is this what sex is_?

Isn’t it supposed to be – you know – more...?

Kylo shoves his forehead until it just touches Hux’s, and then there’s a slide of palm down over his neck, over his shoulder, over his side. It’s glorious, and it’s not even like – well. It _is_ sexual, but he’s not touching anywhere ‘special’. Kylo wants to burst into tears, but he doesn’t want Hux to run away. This feels... _good_.

(When was the last time anyone touched his waist?)

He’s strung by an insane craving for cuddling, and he grabs at Hux’s hip. Lying, facing one another, touching at the forehead and chest. Hands just roving over clothing.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Hux asks.

“Please don’t stop,” Kylo begs, and his neck bends so his nose rests alongside Hux’s more snub offering. 

“I’m not even doing—“

“ _Please_.” He needs it. Needs it more than air. Oh, Maker. He’s been alone so very, very long. Alone, and choked in the Dark, and now this Light – not ‘Light’, but blinding all the same – breathes over his face. 

Kylo holds the small of Hux’s back, and he rubs against his groin. He doesn’t know if Hux is aroused as well or not, but he’s suddenly so _hot_ and _prickly_ and he needs... a few sad, pathetic humps and he feels the spreading wetness in his pants.

He’s. He’s. Humped Hux’s belly, coming just from the hand that feels like it’s molten metal burning through his flesh, draped over him. The climax peaked so quickly that Kylo hadn’t been able to tell until too late, and now he’s left... well. 

Ashamed. That’s... really pathetic. He’d been so hungry for it that he’d...

Hux looks shocked, but delighted. And vaguely disgusted. He’s laughing around the eyes, and Kylo shrinks down until his chin is caught, and kisses are stolen. “That’s very flattering,” Hux says.

“...sorry,” Kylo mutters. The orgasm has him feeling woozy and weird, and the filter is broken in his mouth.

“Don’t be. It’s... well. We can work on that.”

Which means it’s not a one-time offer. Kylo’s eyes dart up, and he feels hope swell in him for the first real time in... in... 

“Can I return the favour?” he asks.

“Do you... feel... you want to?”

Kylo nods, and slips a hand between them. He can feel the warm patch in his pants on the back of his hand as he works Hux’s waistband lower, so his fingers can squirm into his boxers. 

The hand on his neck, pillowing his head a little elevated, tightens. The other brushes through his hair, and Kylo makes a little sound of bliss. It’s so good to feel the light touches, so overwhelming, even now. 

Hux’s cock is hard in his hand, and Kylo knows in _theory_ , but he normally tries to ignore his own arousals. It’s odd to encourage this one, and not just hope it will go down in cold water. It’s so intimate it _hurts_ , and he bites his lip, not sure where this leaves them?

(He’s been eating with the man for months, been glancing against his wrist, been laughing with him, confessing half-secrets when no one looked. What did he think this was?)

“Is that...?”

“Softer, please,” Hux grunts, and starts to kiss over his face.

Oh. The kisses melt his face into nothing, and Kylo’s sure his lips caress his skull. All the way in, scorching words of ownership deep into his bones. He’s almost-hard-but-not again under the touches, and he follows the soft sounds of bliss from Hux’s lips. 

“You... know you don’t need to?” Hux asks. “This...”

“I want to,” Kylo insists. “I’m sorry I—“

“It’s okay.” Hux kisses the corner of his mouth. “Trust me. It’s okay.”

“I’d never...”

“I guessed,” Hux replies, and his hand on Kylo’s hip is pulled through like gravity increased again. “You’re doing s-s--- _so_ well... uh... uhhhh...”

He’s close, Kylo can tell, and he braves the bed to lick his tongue over Hux’s mouth. The sparks in his face nova out, and when Hux’s tongue dips into Kylo’s mouth, he feels like he’s going to come all over again. The mushy wetness of it, the sloppy lick and Kylo’s hand speeds inexorably. His own fever-bright feelings make him go faster, and then Hux is humping his hand and fucking his mouth. Kylo opens to it, and the hand subsuming his face. Where he ends kind of... merges... or something. His sense of ‘me’ becoming ‘us’. Just for a moment, just a bright-hot moment, and then there’s a gasp into his mouth and into his hand. Hux’s seed splatters out, making a mess of their clothing just as surely as Kylo’s had. 

He keeps stroking until Hux begs him to stop, and then they’re sticky with their twin emissions, legs and arms and noses curled together. 

Hux’s breath on his face tickles, and the blanket of their knotting has Kylo’s stomach giddy with anticipation. 

Things are never going to be the same. He needs Hux to keep touching him, just so long as he’ll agree to. 


End file.
